


Finding what you were (not) looking for

by Shadowdancerhel



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of music, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Rom-com, Romance, The Holiday- Avengers Edition, i love music, music references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:16:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdancerhel/pseuds/Shadowdancerhel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony lives in LA. Bucky lives in London.</p><p>When Pepper leaves Tony and Bucky finally realizes that his love for Natasha is unrequited, both men meet online and decide to switch their houses, their cars-- their whole lives-- for two weeks.</p><p>What Tony is looking for is solitude to think about his life choices.<br/>What he finds is the good-looking sweetheart Steve, Bucky's brother.</p><p>What Bucky is hoping for is to fall out of love with Natasha and to find some Inspiration to start his life over.<br/>What he finds is a quirky ray of sunshine named Darcy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

_I have found almost everything ever written about love to be true._

__

_Shakespeare said, ‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.’ What an extraordinary thought._

__

_Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that… but I'm more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I'm constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives._

__

_It was Shakespeare who also said, ‘Love is blind.’ Now, that is something I know to be true._

__

_For some, quite inexplicably... Love fades._

__

_For others… Love is simply lost._

__

_But then, of course, love can also be found. Even if just for the night._

__

_And then there's another kind of love. The cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love._

**  
**_Of that, I am an expert._  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a direct quote from the movie The Holiday, it's not mine.  
> I just put it there because I really like the movie intro, and i wanted to add it to this fic- which is basically the Avengers Version of the movie.
> 
> Feel free to leave comments and kudos throughout the story. Escpecially comments really inspire and motivate me :-)  
> If you have time to beta for me, I'd really appreciate it. I need all the help I can get!
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story


	2. Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here goes the first real chapter.  
> I hope you'll enjoy it, and don't forget to comment :-)  
> Remember, if you want to beta, or know somebody who does, please contact me.  
> Alright then, here. we. gooooooooo...

 

 

 

 

 

_**Bucky** _

He wormed his way through the crowd of laughing colleagues and their better halves, making a beeline for the open bar. As he hastily poured himself a drink, he let his gaze wander around the crowd.

He shouldn't have come. He was never one for parties, let alone annual Christmas ones organized by his police department. The high propability of seeing Natasha Romanov alone should have been enough to scare him off, but in fact, it was the only reason he was here in the first place.

James Buchanan Barnes was never one to pine for someone. Well, not before he met Natasha Romanov, anyway.

As he looked around, his eyes caught a glimpse of brilliant red hair and creamy white skin.

_‘Here we go,’_ Bucky thought to himself as the crowd almost automatically began to part for Natasha. Natasha, in her deep blue, skin tight dress that caressed and accentuated her curves in just the right ways, and her smile that could render one speechless. The way she walked, ever graceful with a hint of dangerousness, like a jungle cat waiting for the right moment to jump its prey. She was headed in Bucky’s direction, his brain helpfully supplied, and he felt his heart rate immediately increase. He could feel sweat gathering on his forehead and at his upper lip, and he tried to wipe it away with a free hand. Which was also sweaty. _‘Shit.’_

He frantically wiped his hand on his trousers, clutching his glass to the brink of breaking it. Then, while trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, he attempted to subtly brush a hand over his face. _‘Play it cool.’_

He noticed that Natasha had almost reached him by the time he raised his head again. By gulping down his drink in one go, Bucky aimed to stifle his nervousness, but the burning sensation down his throat sent him into a coughing fit instead. Doubling over and gasping for air, he felt Natasha pat his back and her dress brush his shoe as she passed. The tension left his body as soon as he felt her presence fade away into the crowd. He let out a shaky breath, braced his hands on his knees, and let his head hang low to allow his brown, shoulder-length hair to hide his face.

Heat spreading up his neck to his cheeks, pulse only just now settling back to normal, Bucky admitted that this was a new low, even for him. _‘Good job, Barnes, lovely performance.’_

He was sure Natasha noticed-- she noticed everything.

She could deduce the past years' criminal activity with a poker face like The Magician, and make most of the said fugitives squirm in their seats with just a look. She could probably kill somebody three different ways using only a paperclip. It is known.

Bucky liked to think she was the daughter of Sherlock Holmes and The Bride. Their ruthlessness and efficiency in deduction of a person or situation, also the their combat skills and strong personalities definitely applied to her. Maybe he also associated them with her because they were his favourite fictional characters.

Anyway, he was pretty sure she knew about how he felt about her, and it only hurt more that she didn't seem to care.

“Bucky.”

He didn't quite shriek, but it was close. “For fucks sake, Sam!”

“Did I scare you?”

Sam Wilson, who came back from Afghanistan a year ago, became his police partner two months prior. He was a pilot overseas, the Air Force, and God only knows why he joined the Met in London now. His grin was always cheeky and brilliant, his dark skin and eyes accentuating his blindingly white teeth. But right about now, Bucky would just love to punch that grin off his face.

Something in his expression must have conveyed that sentiment, because Sam dropped his wry expression and instead proceeded in studying Bucky with a critical eye. “What's up with you, man?”

Instead of answering, Bucky stole a glance in the direction Natasha had headed before. Sam turned to follow Bucky’s line of sight, and almost broke his spine when he whipped back around to narrow his eyes at him.

“Oh, hell no. You can’t still be pining for her.”

“I am not pining.”

“Well, it sure looks like it from here. Go and resolve some of that sexual tension of yours.” He emphasized the last part with a cocky grin and some hip rotating. Bucky didn't care to dignify that with an answer, but he did go to pour himself another drink. Sam followed suit.

“What's it with you two, anyway? Didn't you used to shag her?”

“I didn't... no! I mean... We didn't…”

“Hey, relax. Nothing wrong about an office fling. You know I won't tell,” Sam tried to soothe his friend with a wink.

It only served to anger Bucky more. “It was not just an office fling.”

Sam watched him questioningly. With a sigh into his glass, Bucky added, “I... I loved her.” He downed his drink once more.

“Oh, wow. Shit.” Bucky nodded, eyes drawn downwards. Sam suddenly became serious. “So... what happened, if you don't mind me asking?”

Bucky shrugged. “She just didn't love me back, I guess.“ They both turned their heads in the direction of the  laughter that drifted towards them, melodic over the sounds of Christmas music. It was Natasha, enjoying herself while her boyfriend and police partner, Clint Barton, spun her around on the dance floor. Lucky fella.

Clint pulled Natasha towards him into an embrace and turned his back towards Sam and Bucky, leaving the woman facing the two. She smiled towards them with a wave, and Bucky felt his breath hitch. When he caught himself in order to wave back, she had already turned away.

”So.. shouldn't you hate her? I mean, I see you hanging around her a lot and, you know, people tend to never talk to their exes again--”

“We weren't--”

“--but you just go on having lunch and all, and didn't she call you that time we went out together? I mean--”

“Look, she didn't--”

“--It's really none of my business, but I'm just wondering, why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh, and leveled his friend with a hard stare. “Are you quite finished now?“

“Yeah, well…”

“Listen, we were never together. I just told her my feelings for her, but it wasn't mutual. She wants us to be friends. She likes to keep me close. And I'd do anything for her.”

After a long pause, Sam finally broke the silence. “Wow, I never quite realised how pathetic you are.”

That made Bucky snort, and he could feel hysterical laughter bubbling up in his chest, but he managed to swallow it down.

“I know, right?” He tried to smile, but it felt wrong and based on the look Sam was giving him, it was probably more of a grimace.

Before he could add anything else, though, his supervisor appeared out of nowhere.

Coulson was a nice guy, very dedicated, and he took his job seriously. Which you had to do when you worked in the Specialist Crime Directorate. But people talk, and the talk was that Coulson had no private life. Or that he was a robot. Bucky wasn’t sure which one was most likely the truth.

“Did you finish your report, Barnes?”

“My… my report?”

“Yes, the Harrison-Edgins Case, did you finish it?” When no answer came forth, Coulson continued. “Fifteen minutes, Barnes. I'll be waiting in my office.”

Before Bucky could even attempt to argue that it was afterhours, Coulson disappeared, as fast as he had appeared. ‘Right.’

Leaving Sam behind without a backwards glace, Bucky headed for his desk.

.

“Alright, almost finished…” Bucky mumbled under his breath, as he filled in the last few lines of the report.

“What's it like, to be so dedicated to your work while your colleagues are out there having fun?”

Bucky decided that his health was on the line, as two almost-heart attacks were just too much for one evening. Pulse racing, he spun around in his chair to face the familiar voice.

“Natasha... I didn't hear you enter.” No one ever heard Natasha unless she wanted them to. Bucky swallowed and cleared his throat, coughed, and then cleared his throat again. All the while Natasha smiled that small, cryptic smile.

Bucky was never sure how to read Natasha’s expressions. It made him nervous that she could use her face like a blackboard, conveying any expression she wanted to show or just wiping it away so the person before her was facing utter blankness. Still, he loved to think everything she showed him was genuine, and that she felt safer with him than with anyone else. Even though the notion was a tad unrealistic.

“I... erm, I didn't finish my report and Coulson is still waiting, so I don't think dedicated is the right word. I'm just late. Again. Just... just wait a minute. Don't go.”

Bucky cringed at his words, but he hastily saved his work and printed it. He was glad he had something to do, otherwise she could have seen his hands shaking and his breath stuttering. Knowing her, she probably saw it all anyway.

When he was finished, he turned back to her. She was sitting on his desk, her arms braced behind her on the wood, the slit of her dark blue satin dress revealing her slim, well-formed leg, perched on the chair. She was still smiling, even as she spoke. Gods, he loved her smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I got you something for Christmas…”

“Oh, good, I got you something too!” _‘Three months ago.’_

“I'm afraid I don't have it with me, though.” Natasha smiled apologetically, and Bucky tried not to show his slight disappointment. He felt a soft touch on his cheek. Natasha guided his face so he was looking straight into her pale blue eyes. “But do you want to know what it is?”

He huffed out a laugh. “No, no, it's alright.” He turned away before the trap that were her eyes could catch him and cause him to  bend over and kiss her.

Sorting through the mess that was his desk, he searched for the slim pink package he had spent the last three months staring at, wondering if he had made the right choice. When he found it, he slid it over to her sideways so he wouldn't have to meet those beautiful eyes again.

He felt heat rising in his cheeks and he began to bounce his knee and wipe his face again as he heard the wrapping come off. Natasha gasped – _she gasped!_ \- and turned to look at him disbelievingly. He licked his lips, finally meeting her gaze.

“Do you like it?”

“It's breathtakingly beautiful, thank you!” She kissed his cheek and then turned around, displaying the cut of her dress which almost reached the small of her back. “James, dear, help me put it on.”

She was the only one who called him that. The only one he thought was allowed to call him that. He stepped up behind her and reached around  to take his present from her grasp. It was a necklace, a thin Gold chain with a golden spider pendant. The spider's abdomen was marked by a single red gemstone. Not many people would find it beautiful or romantic, but Natasha was different. Natasha was special.

“Do you understand? Do you know what it stands for?”

Natasha huffed and nodded. “The Furgerson case a year ago. He... He was running towards me…” Her breath hitched. “Smiling.”

Taking a deep breath, she added, “It was terrifying. I was terrified, for the first time in my life… the children. The women.”

She turned her head so she could watch him from the corner of her eye, and smiled her cryptic smile again as Bucky fastened the chain. “But you knew better, didn't you? I shot him down. I saved you, дорогая. You told me he was smiling because he fell in love with me at first sight.”

She laughed, softly, and he felt himself smile her words as she continued to speak. “You called me a Black Widow, drawing him in with my beauty and then killing him.”

He nodded, remembering the memory, but he would never admit how he was a victim also. She drew him in as well and killed him every day anew.

Brushing his fingers along her shoulders, down the back of her arms, he surpressed a full body shudder and rested his forehead on her neck.

“Natasha…” His breath caused goosebumps to appear on her skin. His voice sounded off, scratchy and too deep. Just as he moved to drape his arms around her he felt her tense.

“James, don't.”

She turned around, but close enough so his arms didn't have to leave her. He wanted to say something, anything, but words just wouldn't come out. He dropped his gaze, but the sight of Natasha's Body in that dress only served to make him more flustered, so he raised his flushed face back to meet her eyes.

“Natasha…  I--”

She interrupted him with a finger to his lips.

“Shh. I know.” The redhead moved her hand to cup his cheek and drew her other hand on his neck to pull herself higher. Then she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and smiled sadly as she drew back.

Their moment was interrupted by Commander Furys voice.

“Good evening, everybody! Could I have your attention for a second please?” Commander Fury was not very patient.

Bucky cleared his throat and stepped back. “I guess we should get going.” Natasha nodded.

They separated and headed back to the common area where people were still laughing and talking. Natasha made a bee line for Clint whereas Bucky decided to join Sam. Sam was already grinning again.

“What's so funny?", Bucky asked.

“Want to bet Fury is about to lose his shit right about now?” At that, Bucky couldn't hold in a laugh. Fury really wasn't patient, so it wasn’t a particularly risky wager.

“Could everbody calm the fuck down?! I've got a fucking announcement to make! Shut up or I'll get your stupid asses fired!”

Fury had also lived most of his life in America.

Everybody finally fell silent. The one eyed glare Fury sent the crowd probably also had something to do with that.

Nobody quite knew what happened to his eye but it was common knowledge that asking would lead to severe consequences. It was unsettling enough without knowing.

“Merry Christmas everyone. Now, before I send all your sorry asses home for the holidays, it is my special honor to announce a wedding for the coming year in our midst. It is especially heart-warming for me because they are two of our most valued colleagues. But I swear to god, if you bring your personal problems to work...!”

Fury held up his thumb and scraped it along his throat to emphasize his point, and the crowd began laughing.

“But honestly though, I proudly present to you the newly engaged Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov!”

The people erupted in cheers and clapping but Bucky just froze. ' _What?'_

He saw the pair walk towards Fury, hand in hand and laughing with joy. Natasha looking _genuinely happy_.

“Hey, buddy, you alright?”

Bucky didn't turn to Sam, but kept waiting for Natasha look at him. She didn't at first, but then he caught her do a double-take and look concerned.

It was that look that was burned into his head as he finally turned away and left the party.

 

 

 

 

 

_**Tony** _

“Come on, Pepper. Pepper!”

“Tony, don't make this harder than it already is.” Pepper Potts made her way through their mansion with two huge suitcases in both of her hands, Tony Stark on her heels.

“You want to go? Just like that? Do you even want me to stop you? Pepper, hey! What's wrong with you all of a sudden?”

Pepper stopped abruptly, and Tony almost walked into her back.

She turned around slowly and if looks could kill, Tony would be a heap of ash on the floor right about now.

“All of a sudden, Tony? All of a sudden? You see, that's exactly what I mean. I've been trying to talk to you for months, but you're always in your workshop. You always have something _better_ to do. Always something more important. Your robots have more of a stable relationship with you. My god, even the butler sees you more than I do!”

As if on cue, Jarvis entered through the door, balancing a tray with Tony’s breakfast and humming a tune Tony was almost sure was from Billie Holiday. He was completely oblivious to the tension in the room, as well as the hand Pepper was pointing at him.

When he finally looked up, he visibly cringed and looked as if he would like to dash around the corner. “Sir, do you wish for me to retreat?”

Tony’s ”Yes, Jarvis.” was cut by Pepper’s “Thank you, Jarvis. That won't be necessary.”

She picked her suitcases back up and continued her way to the front door.

“You know, Tony,” she broke the silence with a sad voice. "One would think, as your PA, I see you every day. Instead you lock me out of your workshop when I bring you your shit to sign--"

_‘Wow, I think that was the fist time I heard Pepper curse.’_

She turned around again to point an accusing finger at Tony. Unable to look her in the eyes, he dropped his head.

“--and you tell me -through a fucking speaker, I might add- to leave it on your desk in your office! Me, Tony! _Your girlfriend!"_

Her voice broke on the last part, and he gulped when he saw there were tears threatening to run down her face. Who would have known he could make the infamously strong Pepper Potts cry one day.

_‘Propably the whole world, got a rep to protect.’_ He felt miserable and so guilty.

“I'm sorry" he murmured, although he had a feeling that his words meant nothing.

He reached for her arm and Pepper let herself be pulled in half-heartedly. That was one thing that would hopefully never change. Pepper never stayed mad at him for very long. She smiled a little as he tried to wipe away her tears, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She took a deep breath.

“I know, but that's not enough. Actually I'm doing you a favor. I know you don't really love me--”

“Pepper! How... What?“ Tony pushed her away so he could look at her face and let her see how horrified he was. “You know that's not true!”

“Let me finish. Maybe you like me a lot and you loved the idea of us, but I don't think you love me. I think you knew we had no future, but you were just too scared to end it. So you just avoided the issue-- that is, me. Just look at you Tony, you're not even shedding a tear, even though you know, as soon as I walk out that door, I won't come back.”

Tony felt anger well up inside him, and he released her.

“Why does it bother you so much that I can't cry?” Pepper huffed out a laugh.

“You're missing the point. This, whatever's left of our relationship, it's not working. Not for you, and not for me. We tried to build something that was sure to fail from the start, because we just don't match, and we were too blind to see it. It's better this way, believe me.” She took his hands and squeezed them. “I'll send somebody to pick up my stuff, it's already packed up.”

Tony wondered how he didn't notice she had been trying to leave for months. Could he even stop her when she'd obviously made up her mind a long time ago?

“What about the whole... you being my PA...?”

He cleared his throat. He couldn't stand looking at her for long. It felt like Pepper was his newest and biggest failure, and nobody liked to be reminded of or confronted with their failures, especially not Tony.

“I kind of, you know, need you. And, uh, it wouldn't be easy finding someone else and... yeah.”

He was usually better with words.

She smiled hesitantly. “We can still be friends?”

Tony hoped she felt the full force of his unimpressed look. She laughed.

“I mean, if you have no problem with it, I'll continue working for you. But not now, we both need space.”

 

Tony nodded.

“And I want a raise.”

“Anything for you,” Tony replied automatically.

Pepper laughed and then she was crying again, because that was something he said every time she asked Tony to do something. And along with those fond memories, they both realised that wouldn't happen again anytime soon, because it was _over_.

Tony held her tight to his chest, as if that would make her stay and that's where they stood for a while, in front of the door with Pepper’s suitcases around them, neither of them quite wanting to let go.

“Oh, Tony," Pepper whispered as she finally pulled away. There was so much sadness in her eyes, and Tony felt his chest constricting with guilt at the thought that he had inflicted this upon her. She was so precious to him.

_‘How did I not notice?’_

He noticed for the first time how tired she looked; the blue of her eyes was a bit duller than he remembered and her make up only half-successfully covering the dark circles under them. Maybe it was better that she left. He obviously didn't deserve her. He wasn’t good for her.

Tony helped her drag her suitcases outside and as he loaded them in the trunk of her car, he couldn't help but think how ironic it was, that he bought them for her.

They didn't talk, since it would have been futile. Words couldn't mend what was broken, and they certainly didn't make their parting easier. Right as he turned around, Pepper stepped up to him and hugged him once more, squeezed him tight. Then she let go and walked towards the driver's side, opening the door. Tony stood behind the car, watching her every movement, desperately trying to keep every inch of her in his memory.

Memories kept rushing in, just fragments of their relationship, but before he could linger, they were already replaced by the next ones. The way she threw her head back when she laughed heartily. The glint in her eyes when she found something innapropriate funny, but didn't want to encourage it. Her perfectly manicured fingers she grazed over the side of her neck whenever she was nervous. Pepper in the garden, watering the flowers she planted because that was one thing she insisted on doing herself.

 

They would wilt in her absence, he was sure of it. Pepper on his bed, all smooth skin and sinuous curves illuminated by the moonlight, strawberry blonde hair fanned out around her, framing her beautiful face.

She looked back, and he already opened his mouth, but closed it again, unable to say a thing lest he ruin their parting. This was the last time he was going to see her for a long time. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Pepper got in the car. He was perfectly fine, he could do this. They both could, they were strong.

This was not what he expected what would happen when Jarvis informed him of “Miss Potts requesting his presence at once”.

To find her in the living room sitting on her suitcases with sadness, no, determiation-- sad determination?-- on her face was unsettling to say the least.

_'Are we going on holidays?'_

__

_'I'm moving out.'_

But he understood her, he really did. Everything she said was true and everybody who knew him also knew he was bad at relationships. Exceptionally bad. A catastrophe, a hopeless cause. But somehow he had thought it was different with Pepper. _‘So this is how it ends?’_

 ****  
He watches from his doorstep, as the last two years of his life leave through the massive golden gates that mark the entrance to his driveway.


	3. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's on!!
> 
> Thank the heavens for my betas stateofconstantconfusion and chrysanthemumsies !! <3  
> I very much appreciate your help, so thank you! :-)
> 
> Next Chapter: Unexpected Visitors
> 
> Enjoy :-)

''Tony, is this a bad time?''

 **  
** He was half way from having a panic attack in the hallway, pacing back and forth and clutching his chest when Bruce Banner turned around the corner with a cup of tea in his hand. Instead of answering, Tony focused deep on his breathing to try and keep himself calm.

It was hard. All he could feel was pressure, as if his ribs were squeezing his lungs, he couldn’t catch his breath.

''Where's Pepper?'' Tony sat down on the floor, head between his knees.

''She just left.''

''Oh, well, when is she coming back? Because we need her input for the prototype and she'd propably also have a few ideas for the design. Oh and she could also pass on the details to the marketing department. I already have everything listed and wrapped up.''

Tony lifted his head to face Bruce. He was wearing his trademark slacks and a crumpled button-up shirt, propably from falling asleep on his desk. Tony was pretty sure his own shirt was crumpled too. And smelled.

''She's not coming back.''

Tony saw the exact moment it dawned on Bruce. His mouth formed a little ''o'' as realization crossed his features. He joined Tony on the marble floor and rubbed his face with his free hand, pushing his curly, silver and black hair out of the way.

''I'm sorry.''

''I didn't see it coming.'' He heard Bruce hold his breath and looked at him.

There were a lot of different emotions in Banner's eyes. Sadness, tiredness, pity, guilt.

 

_Wait, what?_

''Bruce.''

Bruce turned around from where he was avoiding Tony's gaze.

''Did you know?'' He didn't answer. Yep, that was definitely guilt right there.

''Oh my god.'' As Tony stood to walk away, Bruce struggled to get up and catch him in time.

''Wait, Tony!''

''What?'' He hurled around and pinned Bruce with an angry glare. Bruce shuffled on his feet and rubbed his hands as was his habit when he got nervous.

Nervous was okay, angry was not. He remembered how he once visited Bruce after his father-in-law fired him and forced his daughter to leave him. His whole apartment was destroyed in his mad rage, so he was forced to live in Tony's mansion for a while. Right now he looked almost as defeated as then, as if he knew Tony was going to want to never talk to him again.

 **  
** ''I.. well, I obviously noticed some things. First I thought you had talked and she was only living here for as long as she needed to find an apartment or something. I thought you were avoiding her.''

Tony guiltily looked away.

“When I figured out you were just oblivious to it, I.. I just..I mean, it wasn't my place to tell, right?''

Tony huffed his breath and rubbed his eyes. He imagined what he would have done if he were in Bruce's place. Propably the same.

 

''I'm really sorry, Tony.''

 

There was a long pause before Tony finally clapped his hands and put on his trademark smirk for the cameras.

''Come on, Bruceyboy. I can't see you so miserable. Show me that prototype.'' The tension eased out of Banner's body as soon as he realised he was forgiven, even though he saw right through the mask, and he gladly accepted the change of subject.

He would not force Tony to talk about it.

.

“Allright, so the most important features about Mark VI Pro would be the high storage space for larger and more diverse documents, for example for business people, then of course the fool proof, customizable security system J.A.R.V.I.S., the larger touchscreen with the tab feature which allows the customer to oversee several apps or documents at the same time and then naturally the software update, which will also be featured in Mark IV T.”

 

Bruce took to his work like a duck to water, flicking between different screens and Layouts and summing up the changes he’d worked on for the new generation of StarkPhones. This was one of the reasons Tony loved Bruce so much. Just like Tony, he could get lost in his work and forget to eat and sleep, sometimes for days at a time, and he enjoyed when he finally saw the result of their hard work being advertised on TV.

“So the primary focus in our ads should be on those features.”, Tony concluded.

“Allright, looks really nice. Just make sure to put a note to the side for the marketing department. Tell them we’re mostly targeting business people with that one, so I expect the commercial to look sleek and professional, maybe minimalistic. Think about black and white- possible silver accents. And tell them if anyone even tries comic sans, I’ll burn the whole department down.”

At that Bruce chuckled.

“It was a prank, Tony.”

“Yeah anyway, about Mark IV T. Target group: Teens and young adults. Age 13-26 ?”

Bruce nodded.

“I don’t even know what kids do these days. I don’t do kids, Brucie.”

Bruce just laughed at Tony’s whining and then smacked him up the head, as was his habit when he was willing Tony to focus.

“It was your idea in the first place, because these ‘kids tend to spread propaganda on technology and generally are  the biggest source of income’. That was a direct quote, by the way. But we also want to offer these young people features they really do need in their age, so… ?”

Tony pushed his chair from the table and groaned. Really loudly.

“Well, I thought since of the two of us you are the child, this would be more your area of expertise.”

“My brain is mush. I need coffee and sleep. Maybe not in that order.”

Bruce took pity on him, propably because of noting the bags under his eyes and how much strain not having Pepper was having on him, although he was sporting pretty impressive dark cricles under his own eyes as well.

“Allright, I did the brainstorming already anyway. I just need you to look at it.” He handed Tony some crumpled sheets of paper with ink stains and Bruce’s smudgy handwriting.

“I thought maybe just use things we would have loved when we were younger. I can’t imagine the new generation is so different from ours. Young people feel the same, I guess.”, he said,  as he handed Tony more schematics and design suggestions.  

“So, huge storage space for music and picture gallery, high quality camera.. ohh and earplugs. Maybe we could make the phone waterproof too? Some nice fresh colours. Also, new apps!”

“This is why I hired you. Just do all the work for me.” Tony muses. “When I retire, I’ll make sure you inherite the company.”

“Tony, I’m, like, a decade older than you. Chances are I’ll die before you, let alone retire.”

Tony just shrugged. Both sitting in their rotatable chairs, swinging back and forth looked like they were trying to lull themselves to sleep. Maybe they were. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he even saw his bed. Bruce seemed to have the same thought, as he slowly and sluggishly got up and stretched.

“I think I’m headed home.’’

“Home?” Bruce spent the night at his mansion more often than not. Tony always had difficulties to remember that Bruce indeed had his own apartment… somewhere.

“Hey, Bruce?”

“Yeah?”

“How about we take some time off. Go on vacation or something?” Bruce froze and threw him a suspicious look over his shoulder.

“In my fifteen years of working with you, I’ve never seen you take some time off, unless Pepper forced you. Let alone suggest vacation time.”

Tony shrugged helplessly.

 

“I know, I just… I guess I need some time for myself. I haven’t touched a book in years, you know what I mean? Go out in the evening, enjoy having some free time. Actually meeting people, new people. For once in my fucked up life not having to worry about stocks or the tabloids or schematics, just… I need a break. From eveything.”

“I see. I guess I could use some two weeks too. Maybe visit my family. Oh my God, my mother is going to kill me, I just remembered I haven’t called her back for a month.”

Bruce put both his hands on Tony’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

“Be well, Tony. I’m headed home. Just remember to call me if anything happens. Or if you just want to talk.”

Tony nodded and hoped Bruce knew how grateful he was for having such a friend like him.

“Good night, Tony.” Bruce made his way out of the workshop and closed the door behind him. Tony could hear him walk up the stairs and then finally the front door shut.

“Good night.”

.

_‘Alone on vacation.'_

_‘Allright, where should I go, where should I go, where should I go?’_

Tony stared at the blank search bar, but nothing would come to his mind.

‘ _Alone and depressed.Alone and abandoned.’_

He tried to recall his saddest memories. It wasn’t very hard to find some, mind you, but they left him feeling rather empty and hollow.

_‘Come on, just one little tear. This is the saddest day of your life.’_

He tried to recall what it felt like to cry.

_‘Lump in my throat? Burning sensation in my eyes? Dripping nose?’_

Nothing.

“Huh.”

Giving up what he thought was a hopeless case, he moved on to find himself a nice place to spend his holidays. Where did people go on Christmas? _‘Oh, right. Family.’_

He searched for travel destinations and clicked the first result.

 

“Worry-Free Vacation? Sounds nice… right.”

He disregarded the site when he noticed the popular activities were for groups or couples, and he wasn’t in the mood to spend to weeks hooking up with random people. Why did they assume everything would be for two?

Scrolling down, he found something that spiked his interest.

“Vacation Rentals. I could do that.”

He opened the link and was relocated to a page which asked him to pick a country he would like to visit. Although Tony spoke several languages fluent - hello, genius?- he figured he wanted to travel someplace, where english was spoken. He picked England. Classic.

 

 

 

 

> _Spend your vacation in a calm, rural enviroment. The rebuilt and redecorated farmhouse from the early 1900s radiates a familiar sensation, like the feeling of coming home after a long, stressful day. Engross yourself with the surrounding nature--_

 

Instead of reading the description, Tony clicked on the picture. And then closed it. It looked like the setting of a crappy western movie.

He scrolled until he found a town called Surrey and clicked on it for no particular reason.

 

 

 

 

> _Christmas in the country, it said. A fairy-tale English cottage set in a tranquil country garden. Snuggle up by an old stone fireplace and enjoy a cup of cocoa. An enchanting oasis of tranquility in a quiet English hamlet.....just 40 minutes from exciting London._

 

The picture he opened showed an idyllic cottage with an overgrown garden, which seemed to add to the loving grandmother vibe the whole place was emanating, instead of making it look abandoned or hounted. The soft snow covering the area and some hills in the backround contributed to the effect.

Mentally comparing the minimalistic design of his mansions interior with the cottage, he decided that yes, this would do. It should be cozy, calming, and hopefully lonely there, so that he could question his life choices in peace. It was different, the exact opposite of his usual lifestyle.

God knew he needed some change.

 

 

 

**_Bucky_ **

Bucky thought about stabbing himself in the gut with the knife he was currently using to cut his vegetables. A thought he dismissed almost immediately, but he still wondered if the pain that would cause him would also make him forget about his heart-ache-- at least for a while.

Natasha Romanov was getting married.

Natasha Romanov was going to marry Clint Barton.

_‘Oh my God.’_

Bucky felt so stupid for every second he even thought he had some kind of connection to Natasha, other than friendship. It was painfully obvious how she had been playing him all the time. All the ‘darlings’ and ‘sweethearts’ that had made his knees buckle now had him clenching his hands into fists.

He thought-- he laughed at himself-- he honestly thought there was a chance, that somehow, sometime, Natasha would finally realise how much she loved him, how wrong it was for her to be with Clint. She would leave him, and instead come to live with Bucky.

It was stupid and childish, he knew he was acting like a teenage girl, but this hope was the only thing that had consoled him at night, when he lay awake and thinking about every single word he had uttered, every single thing he had done to Natasha and wondering where it went wrong. Wondering if it was his fault, wondering if Natasha simply didn’t understand, or didn’t want to understand how much he loved her, how good he could be to her.

And now she was off the market, truly and irrevocably. With this announcement she had made clear that she wanted to spend the rest of her live with Clint, not with Bucky. They would marry, maybe have children in a few years, buy a fucking house and live happily ever after with their 20 grandchildren playing in the fucking perfect garden surrounded by their fucking perfect little white picket fence and--

“ _Fuck!_ ”

He quickly drew his hand away so the blood flowing from the cut wouldn’t drip on his vegetables.

Not sure if it was because of the onions he was cutting or his current emotional state, he blinked his tears away as he scurried for a first aid kit he helpfully had stored in the kitchen.

After he had seen to his hand and cleaned up the mess, he propped his back against the fridge and slid down to the floor. What should he do? Should he quit his job? Move away? A new life? That would be so pathetic and embarassing, but the idea alluring nevertheless.

Sighing, he brushed his hair behind his ear with his left hand, then proceeded at staring at his hand as if he had never seen his own tattoo sleeve before.

For an outsider it would seem as if the man were going crazy-- he probably was-- but concentrating on something unsignificant and yet familiar helped him prevent crying himself to sleep or drinking and then passing out on the floor, possibly on his vomit. He had already opened a bottle of whiskey on his way home from the Met.

Bucky studied the metallic design which covered his whole arm and a part of the back of his hand. The ridges, the shading, the red star on his shoulder.

He was interrupted by a sound from his laptop indicating he had a new message.

The first thing he thought of was Natasha. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He knew how stupid that sounded.

Indeed the message was not from Natasha. Opening it, he saw it was from someone called IronMan_70 left on a homepage for vacation rentals. He had completely forgotten that he had signed up his house for vacation rentals. This was it!

**IronMan_70**

>>Hey, is this house available this Christmas? I’d like to rent it, because I really need to get out of here, so if you’re still free, that would be awesome. I know it’s a bit late to be asking, but if you’re interested, please contact me.

It was as if the skies had cleared and an angel had descended from heaven to bless him. This was exactly what he needed. This was the solution. He typed.

**WinterS310**

>>I am interested, but my place is only available for home exchange.

**IronMan_70**

>>Home exchange?

**WinterS310**

>>Yes. We switch houses, cars, basically everything.

**WinterS310**

>>I admit I haven’t done it before, but a few friends of mine have.

**IronMan_70**

>>Sounds good, actually. Need a change of scenery.

**WinterS310**

>>So where do you live?

 

He prayed somewhere far, far away. Maybe Somewhere in Asia. Japan? Australia? Or somewhere in Russia? Hopefully at least on another continent. Maybe South Africa or--

 

**IronMan_70**

>>LA

 

Bucky let out a breath he never even realised he’d been holding. _‘Thank god.’_

 

**WinterS310**

>>Never been there. Btw I’m James Barnes, friends call me Bucky. I’m healthy, athletic, non-smoker and tidy. Single. Need to get out of here probably as much as you do. Hate my life.

**IronMan_70**

>>Tony, genius loner and complicated wreck.

**WinterS310**

>>Hi

**IronMan_70**

>>Hi

**IronMan_70**

>>Your cottage looks really nice. Cute, cozy, relaxing.

**WinterS310**

>>Thanks, mate. What does your place look like?

**IronMan_70**

>>It’s nice. I think you’d like it. But it’s a bit bigger.

**WinterS310**

>>Not hard to be.

**IronMan_70**

>>One last question.

**WinterS310**

>>Shoot.

**IronMan_70**

>>Is there anybody who could potentially break my heart?

 

Bucky instantly thought of Natasha.

 

**IronMan_70**

>>Jk, I’m overreacting. I just got out of a relationship and I really don’t want to see anybody.

**WinterS310**

>>Know the feeling. Honestly, zero.

 

It didn’t even take a second for Tony to answer.

 

**IronMan_70**

>>When can I come?

 

_‘As soon as possible.’_

 

**WinterS310**

>>Tomorrow too soon?

**IronMan_70**

>> No, perfect.

**WinterS310**

>> So two weeks starting from tomorrow?

**IronMan_70**

>>It’s _on. **  
**_


	4. Unexpected Visitors- Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allright here we go with Chapter 4 :-)  
> This one is completely Bucky, next chapter will be Tony.  
> Hope you'll enjoy :-)

 

_**Bucky** _

****  


This was a good day. Bucky knew it. He could feel it.

He had checked in, humming a tune to himself and looking like he had won the lottery. He must have looked like a lunatic by the glances he had been receiving from the staff. His good mood had lasted until the plane was about to start and he received a text message from Natasha.

> _Hear u r leaving the Isle._
> 
> _Never thought u would actually_
> 
> _go on vacation in this lifetime._
> 
> _What r u up to?_
> 
> _xo Nat_

He had wondered how he should respond to that. This was the reason he was never able to get rid of his feelings for her. Whenever he was about to take a step back, trying to put himself together, clear his head, Natasha reached for his hand and he took hers, every time telling himself it was the last time.

He took a deep breath and told himself if he wanted something to change, this was the moment to do so. He texted back.

> _Nat,_
> 
> _I think we both know I need some time_
> 
> _in order to fall out of love with you._
> 
> _It would be rather nice of you_
> 
> _if you would let me._
> 
> _We can talk when I get back._
> 
> _James_

He had turned his phone off, feeling a lot better about himself.

Now, almost twelve hours later, he was marvelling at the view outside from the cab he had hailed at the airport. LA was even better than he had anticipated. Every building they were passing, every time he could glimpse the ocean in between them, whenever he saw a palm tree, he let a weird sound of excitement pass his lips, which would be embarrassing if--

well, if he weren’t so damn excited! He seldom went on vacation, and when he did, he never really left Europe, so he let his eyes wander free along the people on the streets and--

_‘Oh my God, was that Paul Rudd?’_

Bucky may have squealed, but very quietly and in a manly fashion.

The driver was already glancing at him periodically through the rearview mirror, rolling his eyes and sighing. Bucky thought he heard him mutter “tourists” once or twice, but he also seemed amused, so he counted that as a win.

“First time here?” The driver smiled at him.

Returning it, Bucky nodded. The man reached for the car radio and turned the volume up.

_So I turned my head a second and the man had gone_

_But he left his driver's wallet smack dead on the lawn_

_I picket the wallet up then I took a pause_

_Took out the license and it cold said "Santa Claus"_

Laughing now, he asked the driver “What is this?”

Grinning at him, the driver answered. “Christmas In Hollis. Run-DMC.”

He continued whipping his head back and forth to the beat of the song, and Bucky joined in.

_A million dollars in it, cold hundreds of G's_

_Enough to buy a boat and matching car with ease_

_But I'd never steal from Santa, cause that ain't right_

_So I'm going home to mail it back to him that night_

_But when I got home I bugged, cause under the tree_

_Was a letter from Santa and all the dough was for me_

The song only contributed to his good mood and he found himself doing stereotypical rapper moves with his hands, while trying to mouth along the lyrics to a song he hadn’t even heard of before now. And it sounded just perfect to the view outside. The sun and the light-clothed people. He was used to snow and rain and coldness around this time of the year, darkness and christmas lights, carols everywhere.

But the difference between London and LA felt right. The distance felt just right.

After a while the cab pulled up in front of massive golden gates and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Fucking _golden_ gates. _‘Who has golden gates?’_

There were white walls surrounding the property, but he could see the driveway framed by palm trees and lanterns leading to a circular forecourt. A few pathways led from the forecourt to smaller buildings, probably staff rooms, judging by several gardeners watering and cutting plants. In the middle of the forecourt stood a huge abstract statue. Water was running down it in rivulets, into a fountain.

But all that was rather secondary as he eyed the gigantic white mansion right opposite of the golden gates.

“This is it? Are you sure?”, he turned to the driver.

“It sure as hell matches the address you gave me. There. Are you James?” He pointed at a sign hanging from the mailbox at the wall. It was actually just a big piece of cardboard attached to the mailbox with duct tape. It read:

 ****  


> _Yeah, James “Friends-call-me-Bucky” Barnes._
> 
> _You’re at the right place here._
> 
> _Ring and ask for Jarvis._

“I must have overlooked that.”

Huffing in amusement, Bucky got out of the car and the driver helped him get out his suitcases from the car boot. He nodded his thanks and bid the driver farewell as he drove back to the airport. Leaving him in front of the gateway alone. Confused. Nervous.

Finally Bucky just pressed the button he assumed was the bell and it began ringing, as if he were calling someone on the phone. Before he could question whether or not he pressed the right button and panic (what if he had called 911? How do you explain you were too stupid to ring a bell) a smooth voice picked up on the other line.

“Stark Mansion, Good Afternoon. You are speaking with Edwin Jarvis. How can I help you?”

“Hello… uhh, I’m James Barnes. Tony told me to-”

“Yes, I recall Sir having mentioned it before his sudden depart. Everything has been arranged accordingly. I will meet you at the front door and show you to your rooms.”

The line was cut and before Bucky could wonder how he should enter, the golden gates opened in slow motion. A little intimidated, he grabbed his suitcases and started his walk towards the mansion, which seemed to take longer than he had thought.

The massive front door, which Bucky was sure was mahogany, opened before he even fully reached the staircase.

“Mr. Barnes.” The elderly man in an impaccable suit which probably cost more than Bucky earned for a living reached out his hand for him to shake.

“Hi…”

“Just call me Jarvis.” The older man smiled at him and motioned for him to come inside. As Bucky started to pick up his suitcases, Jarvis interrupted him.

“Please follow me. I will have your belongings sent to your room.”

He followed Jarvis into the house-- mansion-- and was overwhelmed by the sheer luxury the place was oozing. The floor was marble, and he wondered if every room had marble floor. Wouldn’t it get cold? Then he figured somebody who had enough money for marble floors probably also had enough money for heating.

He could see a wide living space to his left and to his right were stairs leading to the upper floor. Jarvis crossed the living room, Bucky on his heels, and walked into the following room. It was a kitchen and a dining room in one, but it was bigger than Bucky’s whole living space at home. There was a wide table suited to hold at least 20 guests and a smaller round table which looked like it was used more frequently. A window took up almost a whole wall, only leaving space for a smaller glass door.

Outside, the garden stretched out for several hundred feet in all directions. There was a terrace, a big one, followed by a swimming pool and then followed by endless green and all kinds of exotic plants. There was even a vegetable house. He could see people bustling about, cutting and watering plants, cleaning the pool, gathering leaves.

Jarvis’ voice broke him out of his reverie.

“Mr. Barnes, would you like something to drink?”

He turned and smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah, water please. Thanks.” He said as Jarvis passed him a glass.

He stood there, awkwardly sipping his water and wondering what to say, when Jarvis cleared his throat.

“You are allowed to sit down.”

Bucky startled. “Oh! Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

 

He moved to the smaller, less intimidating table and took a seat, motioning for Jarvis to join him.

“So… are there always so many people here?”

Jarvis huffed a laugh. “Sometimes. Sir, doesn’t like it much. He cares for his privacy, so we usually work when he is gone. They will be gone by tomorrow.”

After a pause, he added.

“Which reminds me, do you require a cook or do you prefer cooking yourself?”

Bucky blinked. Once. Twice.

“Uhh… I usually cook myself.”

“Very well. Most of the rooms are accessible to you. The living room, kitchen, gardens, several bedrooms, bathrooms, the gym, sauna, home cinema, both this dining room and the bigger one for festivities. The one with the concert piano. You are allowed to use everything in the rooms you have access to, and should you require something, do not hesitate to ask me. I am Mr. Stark’s butler, but I supervise Sir’s property in his absence and I will be living in the smaller house, to the left of the mansion. Should you need anything, there is a grocery list on the refrigerator. Feel free to add anything you require. Also, if you have dirty laundry, there will be a laundry basket in the bathroom with your name on it. Your laundry will be returned to you every morning.”

He paused.

“I think that was all, for now.”

“Uh-huh.” Well, that was overwhelming. He was practically a millionaire for two weeks.

“What did you say Tony does for a living?”

“Do you have a StarkPhone?”

“Yeah, why?”

Jarvis just looked at him. Then it dawned on him. Stark. Tony Stark. Tony Stark, like the CEO of,

“Stark fucking Industries!”

Jarvis smirked. Bucky gaped.

“How… ? Why would he… ?”

Why would a billionaire playboy, who could literally buy everything he wanted, switch houses with a stranger? He could have pulled in a burglar, or a scandal-seeking reporter, a part-time paparazzi, whatever. So why did he…

 ****  


_“I’d like to rent it, because I really need to get out of here, so if you’re still free, that would be awesome.”_

_“I just got out of a relationship and I really don’t want to see anybody.”_

****  


“Oh.”

“I’ve been working for Mr. Stark and and his father before him. I have long accepted Sir’s impulsive behavior and sometimes even learned to appreciate it. There is never a boring day at Stark Mansion.”

That made Bucky smile. “I can imagine.”

“ _I_ can imagine you must be rather exhausted. I will show you to your rooms, it should be ready by now.”

They walked back to the stairs in companionable silence, Bucky admitting to himself that he was, in fact, very tired.

“But I wouldn’t advise you to sleep just yet. Otherwise getting accustomed to the time difference will be difficult.”

“Bollocks.”

Jarvis lead him through a long corridor and then around the corner, and opened a door.

“I hope this room meets your expectations.”

Bucky stepped into the room on polished wood and was embraced by the scent of freshly washed bedclothes. There was a king-size bed with soft looking pillows and a flatscreen on the wall facing the bed. He also had a walk-in closet and a balcony, even his own bathroom. Although Jarvis pointed out there was a bigger bathroom with a hot-tub and a vapour bath just across the hallway. His luggage was neatly packed beside the bed.

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

Jarvis smiled an bowed his head.

“Jarvis?”

“Mr. Barnes?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you have a very familiar accent.”

Jarvis smirked. “I grew up in London. Came here when I was twenty, in the late 70’s. I’ve been working for the Starks ever since. You are from Surrey, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

Jarvis smiled, bowed his head again and retreated from the room.

.

After a few hours, Bucky found himself fighting sleep with all the strength he could muster. Bleary-eyed and with a serious bed head, he got up from the sofa, figuring that watching movies wouldn’t really help his case. Instead, he chose to wander about, discovering new rooms every time he passed a corridor. He could swear there were new doors popping up every time he looked away.

He did actually find the dining room Jarvis talked about. The one with the concert piano.

But he had to disagree. It wasn’t a big dining room.

It was a fucking _ball room_.

Like in fucking Beauty and the Beast!

How had he even managed to miss the gigantic windows arching towards the roof, which was-- of course-- a dome, when he was walking around the gardens earlier?

A distant ringing woke him from his reveries. Which didn’t include twirling Natasha across the parkett to Céline Dion at all.

Scrambling out of the room, he tried to remember if Jarvis told him where to find the phone, or if every room had one. Eventually he just followed the ringing to the corridor, where the phone displayed ‘gate’.

Who the hell was Gate? And should he pick up the phone? He didn’t remember Tony leaving any kind of instructions about that? What if he fucked up some kind of business?

But surely Tony would let business partners know of his absence, right?

 ****  


_“I have long accepted Sir’s impulsive behavior.”_

****  


“Oh, fuck it.”, he sighed, as he finaly resigned to just pick up the damn phone.

“Uhh, hello?”

“Hey, Tony. Open the gate, what’s taking you so long?”, a feminine voice drawled.

“Not Tony!” Of course, gate wasn’t a person. So stupid. He glanced at the display of the phone. It said Enter PIN.

“How do I… Just a second, hang on!” He shuffled through a notebook on the table with the phone, searching for some kind of PIN number. I his hurry, he dropped the phone, picked it up, and almost dropped it again.

“Oh for fucks sake!” He heard the woman giggle through the speaker.

“JARVIS!”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes?” Jarvis popped his head in through the door. Wow, he was really fast for an old man. Or… he had been standing there all along, laughing at Bucky’s misery. Judging by the smirk of the older man, it was probably the latter.

“You-- How do I--”

“Five-oh-seven-nine.” He disappeared as fast as he had come.

Bucky grumpily hit the required numbers and went out to meet the woman.

He opened the door right in time to see a 1960 cadillac 62 convertible in baby pink pull up right in front of the stairs. A 62 convertible. In baby pink. He was just about to judge the driver, in his mind of course, until he saw how it suited the woman getting out of the car.

She was a small, curvy brunette with her red lips parted into bright smile, but eyes hidden under cat-eye sunglasses. As she walked around the car, the music inside it accentuated her every step as she moved towards the stairs.

 ****  


_I put a spell on you_

_because you're mine._

_Stop the things you do_

_Watch out, I ain't lying_

****  


She wore a white dress which reminded him of the way his granny had wore on older pictures. Was it the fifties? It had flowers all over and the way her chocolate brown hair cascaded down her shoulders made her look sweet and innocent. But the way she walked said something entirely different. Steady on her heels and walking with purpose, and when she took off her sunglasses he noticed something in her eyes. It might have been something dark and mischievous, or something mysterious, but either way there was definitely more to her than her looks.

But the way the dress hugged her curves just the right way… He couldn’t deny that she looked breathtaking.

She wiggled her gloved fingers awkwardly before reaching out to shake his hand.

“Hi, I’m Darcy Lewis.”

“Nice to meet you, Darcy. I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.” He turned towards the house and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about that before. I’m not really accustomed to all this…”

“Opening gates?” She grinned, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that.”

“Really nice car you have there.”, he smiled. “Unusual colour, but I like it.”

“Thanks! I love my baby. She’s called Betty.”

Bucky laughed. “Like Betty Boop?”

“Exactly!” She pointed at a small sticker on the side of her car and there was, indeed, Betty Boop reclining against the rear wheel.

“So why Betty Boop?”

Darcy grinned at him, and there was that glint in her eyes again. “Comes with the business. I’m a singer and dancer at a bar down sunset strip.”

“Ohh so that’s you singing?”

 ****  


_Oh, oh, I love you, I love you_

_I love you anyhow_

_I don't care if you don't want me_

_I'm yours right now_

****  
  


“Ha, real funny, dude. Are you trying to insult me? Do I look manly to you? I'll have you know that all this," She pointed her gloved hand all over her body, " is real. I’d have to smoke 4 packages of cigarettes before every performance to get that voice, and I kind of value my life.”

“Kind of?” Bucky asked with a cocky grin and Darcy shut him down with finger guns.

“But I’m also Pepper’s part-time assistant and friend, which is the reason I’m here in the first place.”

“Pepper?”

“Yeah, Tony’s Ex. She sent me to pick up some of her stuff, because she’s got work to do. Important woman and all.”, Darcy drawled good-naturedly.

“Oh yeah. But would you mind if I ask Tony first? I don’t feel good just handing out stuff to strangers without being sure.”

Darcy gasped and held her hand before her mouth in mock-offence. “Hey, you’re the stranger here!”

She paused and suddenly became weary. “Wait, who are you anyway, Mr. Call-Me-Bucky? And where’s Tony?”

“Relax. Tony’s in London taking some time off and I’m here for the time being. We kind of traded houses and everything.”

Darcy just squinted at him sceptically.

“If I was some kind of burglar I’d definitely not let you see my face.”

“Point.”, she said and the tension left her shoulders.

“Also, I’m a cop.”

“Thank god I didn’t pull my taser on you.”

Before he could react in any way to that statement, the wind blowed something in his eye, and he tried to blink it away, without much success.

“Ohh, you need help? Come on, let me!”

She pried his hands away from his eyes, stripped her hand of her glove and stuck it between her knees. With delicate fingers, she removed whatever it was from between his lashes, and he blinked freely again, relieved  from the itching.

“There you go.” She smiled. Her smile was very warm. She had really cute dimples. And if you looked really closely, you noticed a light sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks. He noticed he’d been staring for a little too long, and there was too little distance between their faces, so he moved to correct that.

“It’s the Santa Anas.”

“The what?”

“The wind. That’s why it’s so warm.  It’s said that when the Santa Anas blows, anything can happen.”, she smiled again and there were crinkles around her baby-blues.

“Well I hope it brings me luck!”, he smiled back.

Bucky startled when he heard the car door opening and slamming closed again.

“Baby, go easy on Betty!”

“Sorry!”

She grinned back at the tall lanky man-boy who moved towards her, putting his hand around her waist and kissed him on the cheek.

“Look, this is Bucky, Tony’s friend. Bucky, this is my… Ian. I mean Ian, not my Ian.” She smiled sheepishly.

“Hi, nice to meet you.”, Ian said, shaking Bucky’s hand, but seeming so uninterested that he ought to feel offended.

“Likewise.”, Bucky responded in an equally bored manner.

Ian the man-boy wasn’t even fazed by it. Instead he turned towards Darcy and muttered.

“Are we done here, baby? I’ve gotta go.”

Bucky could see Darcy’s face fall. Ian probably “got to go” on a regular basis. “Well then.”

She turned back to Bucky and forced a smile on her face. “I’ll be coming back in a few days or so, and then you’re gonna have to hand me Pepper’s stuff wether your want it or not!”

“Alright, Tony will have responded by then for sure.”

Walking backwards towards the car, Darcy winked at him before getting inside.

“Don’t get blown away!”

He yelled back. “I won’t!”

 ****  
Turning back inside, Bucky chuckled to himself. “Anything can happen, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like my take on Darcy? She will be funny and stuff but in this story she's really stylish and all, and adopted 40s-60s Fashion for herself. In future chapters you will also get to see her work, because she does, in fact, sing and dance in a burlesque bar :-D
> 
> Also also, bonus points if you got the Paul Rudd reference. I love that meme so much!
> 
> Songs featured in this chapter:
> 
> 1\. Run-DMC - Christmas in Hollis  
> 2\. Screamin' Jay Hawkins - I put a spell on you
> 
> Next chapter: Unexpected Visitors- Part Two :-)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO fucking sorry for taking so long!! I'm generally a slow writer and now that school started, I'm seriously stressed out and I have so little time to write. It's really frustrating because I want to finish this story, but I'll probably take longer than expected, so please hang on, I'll do my best! It's just my last year of school and I have so much shit to prepare for my life after school, I'm sorry :(
> 
> If you're still there, I hope you enjoy this chapter, in which Tony meets Steve.

_**Tony** _

****  


“Sir?”

“Sir?”

“Mhyeah?!” Tony shot up from the backseat of the taxi. Apparently he had fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered was hiring a taxi to drive him to that cottage. He took in the awkward stare of his driver and then looked past him. There was not a single building, only trees covered in snow and a narrow, slippery road ahead of them.

“Uhh, I’m sorry, but this can’t be it.”

“No, sir. It’s right down that road, but I can’t turn the car around down there. Think you can make it?”

Tony pondered that for about five seconds. “Uuummm… no.”

Another thirty seconds later had him standing in the cold with his suitcases, huffing in anger while his taxi cruised away.

“Great.”

Whatever, it couldn’t be that hard to find a cottage right? The driver had said it was just down the road.

Just down the road proved to be a longer way than expected. Tony was struggling with the weight of his suitcases- honestly, what had he even packed, rocks?- slipping every five seconds and steaming with anger. It was the drivers fucking job to drive him to that adress. What did he even pay him for?

After about fifteen minutes, which felt more like hours, Tony looked up to see two men walking towards him. Scenting salvation, he left his suitcases where they were and jogged up to the odd pair. Both were tall and muscular, but while the one seemed very bulky, the other looked more lean. They were generally the exact opposite of each other. The bulky one had long, blond hair wore a dark red woolen sweater over jeans and a grey scarf around his beard. He had a cheerful way about him, while the other one with dark, soft curls framing sharp cheekbones and emerald green eyes seemed more distant. He looked like he was wearing a business suit under an elegant coat and green scarf.

Tony figured he should adress the guy in the red sweater if he was hoping for a kind spirit to help his lost soul.

“Hey, uhm, sorry! Do you happen to know where to find Rosehill Cottage?”

“A foreigner!”, the blond guy boomed, grinning, and Tony wondered if he should have asked the other guy instead.

“Yeah, hi. So… Rosehill Cottage?”

“Of course, my friend. You are on the right way. Just cross the little Bifröst-

“The bridge, Thor.”, the raven-haired man corrected.

“- the bridge, and the first house after that is the cottage.”, Thor continued unpertubed.

“Aye. It’s on a hill. Can’t miss it.”, the other man added.

Tony stared for a little while. Something about the pair seemed odd, put he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Finally he just thanked them and grabbed his suitcases, the hope of a heated house and a comfortable bed keeping him up. As he passed Thor and his companion, Tony missed him ask Thor “Isn’t Rosehill Cottage where Steven’s brother lives?”

.

Like the two men had said, Rosehill cottage stood proud upon a hill- well, as proud as a cottage could stand. It was easier to reach on foot, as there was only one long narrow and bumpy car road leading to the village in the valley, whereas there were several smaller pathways through fields. For Tony it looked like a solitary fortress with a promise of warmth and peace.

As Bucky had said, he found the keys in the mailbox and entered the house. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but from inside it was just an ordinary house. Nothing luxurious, but nothing filthy or shabby either. Definitely more comfortable than his own home. It was small- no surprise there, really- and the rooms looked even smaller because all of the furniture and dark wood.

He didn’t know how long he stood there in the entrance with the door open and his luggage still outside, feeling a bit dissapointed and embarrassed about his dissapointment, because somehow he had thought that walking through this door into this magical place would suddenly change his life, make all his problems vanish and leave him feeling all better, leave him a changed man, who could maybe hopefully win Pepper back. As it was, no strange light engulfed him, no mysterious voice whispered to as to how he should continue his life, wether or not something was wrong with him and if he should change. No eureka-moment, no grand ideas flashing in his mind, not for his personal life, nor for Stark Industries. He just stood there feeling as empty as he had felt outside.

Eventually he pulled his suitcases in and closed the door, sighing. If no higher force was going to enlighten him, obviously he had to do it himself.

Wandering around the house, he found that the biggest room was the living room, although it was quite cluttered with bookshelves and movies and music. The walls were full of framed pictures and posters, which Tony decided he would take a better look at later on.

A TV was pecariously perched on a shelf that was way too small to possibly hold it’s weight. Several quilts and cushions were carelessly thrown on a big, old sofa which looked like it had been kept more because of fond memories associated with it rather than comfort.

There were weights in one corner of the room, and Tony wondered what Bucky looked like. He let his imagination create a muscular, good-looking guy with a cute accent before walking into the kitchen.

He was greeted by a cat (honestly it looked more like a mini lion) sitting on the table, staring at him expectantly.

“Okay, hi.”, Tony waved awkwardly. As if the cat would wave back and start to talk to him.

“So, Bucky has a cat?”, he asked the cat. The cat blinked. “What’s your name?”

His phone chimed and it startled Tony, and the cat hopped off the table as Tony read the text message from Bucky.

> Forgot to mention I have a cat.
> 
> His name is Mufasa. House-trained.
> 
> Food under the sink, cat toilet in the bath.
> 
> Feed twice a day, check toilet every now and then.
> 
> He’s mostly outside, so don’t worry too much.
> 
> Hope you’re not allergic.

Mufasa had started to curl around his legs and rub his body (and his fur!) on Tony’s slacks as he walked towards the sink to retrieve the cat’s food. After a bit of searching he found a food and water bowl in the corner by the table. Leaving the cat to eat in peace, he grabbed his luggage and went upstairs, where he assumed his bedroom would be. Indeed there was a bedroom, a very small one with a tilted ceiling which made the room look even smaller. The room consisted solely of a king sized bed and a wardrobe. On the other side of the corridor was a bathroom with a bathtub Tony could already see was too small for him.

He proceeded in arranging his belongings in the upper rooms, trying to make it look more like his home. It was going to be his home for two weeks. When he finished, that dreadful emptiness from earlier threatened to consume him once again. Thankfully he found something he could do. As long as he was doing something, his mind would be busy and the emptiness would stay away. He spent twenty minutes looking for the car keys and another fifteen minutes asking himself wether or not he thought he was able to drive on the wrong side of the road. On the wrong side of a very narrow, slippery, bumpy road to hell.

Thankfully, he only amlost died three times. He had had far worse. Still his heart was racing and he had to catch his breath as he parked in front of a grocery store.

“Fucking hell.”, he chuckled.

A shopping list was unnessecary, as everything he needed was booze and greasy food. He walked through the aisles, grabbing anything that looked interesting enough, while already uncanning a beer for warm up. He was already on his second beer when he paid for his groceries.

“Going to have a nice gathering together, aren’t you, dear?” , the cashier, an elderly lady asked. “ ‘s gonna be the time of my life!”, he answered jovially and downed the rest of his beer, and starting to open the whisky bottle for good measure. He was going to get so drunk tonight and it would be awesome! For a few hours at least. He waved the confused cashier goodbye, and prepared himself for the ride on a road to hell part two.

.

“Don’t drink and drive!”, he yelled as he stumbled out of his- pardon- Bucky’s car, having narrowly avoided another two death scenarios. He was already a little tipsy, and usually he would never drive drunk- he valued his life too much, and the world seriously needed his technology- but today was an exception. He just didn’t give a fuck anymore. Three bags full of chocolate, alcohol, and frozen pizza (ew, but he didn’t want to see anyone, which included pizza delivery men) were hauled into the kitchen and he gasped for air afterwards. Apparently he wasn’t the youngest anymore, if this was what it took to wear him off. Maybe Pepper thought he was too old…

With a start he realised where his thoughts were going and he stoped right in his tracks.

He was not going to ruin his own vacation for himself!

He turned to his nonexistent audience and spread his arms wide. “Time to get this party started!” He got an encouraging meow from Mufasa. This, this was a kind of cat he appreciated. Of course, Tony had packed in his music for every occasion and there was a stereo system right there in the living room, so he plugged in his music and blasted it.

_Sometimes you gotta bleed to know_

_That you’re alive and have a soul_

The catchy melody and the rhythm of the song instantly improved his mood, and he started dancing around the kitchen, banging pans and pots and unpacking the grocery bags. He filled bowls with chocolate and stuffed the pizza in the freezer, banging it closed with his hip. He sang along with the music aggressively, almost screaming the deep words from the top of his lungs, until it slowly came to a stop.

_My heart is my armor_

_She’s the tear in my heart_

_She’s a carver_

_She’s a butcher with a smile_

_Cut me farther than I’ve ever been_

He didn’t bother getting up to check the next song, as he had faith his playlist would spill something worth listening to. It was his playlist after all. While the first tunes of an AC/DC song blasted through the stereo system, the short man took out every single cup or glass in the kitchen and set them up in a long row.

_Come on honey, take a trip with me_

_We’ll take a double shot of ecstasy_

With a manic grin, he filled 12 glass cups and 6 mugs with whisky and resolved to drink everything within the night. Maybe, if he drank fast enough, he would pass out and oversleep this whole vacation.

_And I warn you_

_It’s the best shot of your life_

_Shot of love_

It was around 9 p.m., so if he started drinking now, he would probably pass out around 2 a.m., which was good, because his sleeping habits left much to be desired, and at least he would sleep when it was dark outside. Maybe this would be the first part of a myriad of changes. Maybe if he had a normal sleep scedule, he would have more time for Pepper, and then maybe…

_‘Stop, Tony!’_

Tony downed the first drink quickly before grimacing at the burn down his throat.

By his fourth drink he was dancing in his boxers, simply because he could, and was crying out to Alice Cooper.

_One look, could kill_

_My pain, your thrill_

He bowed down low, slowly stretching his arms into the air as he waited for the drop of the chorus. Then he screeched along

_I wanna love you but I better not touch_

_I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop_

_I wanna kiss you but I want it too much_

_I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison_

By this point Tony had been dancing and stumbling all over the place, and Mufasa had silently retreated to a quiet corner.

By his ninth drink, he was wallowing in self pity, feeling absolutely hopeless, but not a single tear escaped his eye. He was still clad in only his underwear, leaning against the couch, eyes rolling back in their sockets, but sleep refused to come.

_You said the moon was ours_

_Yeah, you said the moon was ours_

_To hell with the day_

_The sunlight is only going to take love away_

Tony sighed, mouthing along with the chorus.

_Lies, lies, lies, oh lies._

Was he really that bad at relationships? He had really thought Pepper was perfect for him. She had always been there for him. She was a constant in his life, solid as a rock, an anchor to hold him down when there were too many highs, and a pair of wings to make him fly when the ground threatened to swallow him whole. He honestly didn’t think he would be anywhere nearly as successful in life without Pepper, not only in the business, but also in terms of personal growth. Still, he obviously hadn’t grown enough as a person.

_I got a stone where my heart should be_

_And nothing I do will make you love me_

_I will leave this town break all my ties_

_There would be no more use for any disguises_

And he disgusted himself. He thought himself a heartless beast. How could he have let the love of his life just walk away? What kind of man just accepted his fate, without fighting for what was important to him? How could he ever hope to win Pepper back, and should he even attempt it?

_I want to die without pain, yeah_

_I want to die, oh, without pain_

_All this deception I just cannot maintain_

By 2 a.m., he hadn’t even started his twelfth drink. At this point he had resigned himself to the fact that he would probably die alone, preferably in the next two weeks so he wouldn't have to face the world beforehand. And wouldn't that be an epic ending? He could already imagine the headlines.

"BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY DRANK HIMSELF TO DEATH"

"WHO WILL TAKE OVER STARK INDUSTRIES?"

"IS PEPPER POTTS A MURDERER?"

He chuckled without humor. Deciding he should distract himself, he turned off his music and walked around the living room, gathering the cat out of his corner and pressing him to his chest. The dizzying effect of his whisky had long ago given over to a light buzz.  
Mufasa hissed at the rough way Tony held him, until he adjusted his grip on him. "So Mufasa, tell me something about Bucky. " The cat purred and rubbed it's head on Tony’s stubble. "I guess he's a nice guy, right?" He walked over to the pictures and posters on the wall, noting Bucky had a decent music taste. There were a few framed pictures, some older ones, and some seemingly taken only a few years back.

One picture especially looked as if had been through hell and back, crumpled and smoothed out again. It was a picture of a family at a barbeque. A man and a woman holding a baby in a pink jumper between them, smiling at the camera, while a smaller boy, maybe five years old, with brown, wild hair and steel blue eyes tugged the hem of the man's shirt, looking equally happy. Tony wondered who they were.  
There was another picture of the same boy with another thin, sickly looking blonde. The blond boy had the bluest eyes Tony had ever seen, red cheeks and he clutched the brunets hand with one, and a stuffed toy with another hand. He was definitely younger, maybe three years old. It seemed to be at the same barbeque party; the people and the garden in the background were in the first picture too.   


Between a few books and some records, hid a picture of the same two boys, now teenagers, which wasn't framed. The blond looked far healthier, and even seemed to be putting on some weight. The boy who he now assumed was Bucky, wore a shit-eating grin while pulling on the hair of a brunette girl with warm brown eyes standing between the two of them. Her red lips were spread to a dazzling smile while she tried to bat away Bucky’s hand. The blond had his arm swung over her shoulders protectively , while laughing at someone behind the camera. _'Stevie, Peggy & Bucky, 2002'_ it read on the backside.

****  


Right behind it was another picture. A black man with a wide grin taking a selfie in a hospital room. In the background Bucky was lying in bed, looking pale and worn off, but smiling slightly still. A beautiful redhead sat beside him.   


Tony didn't even know if he was allowed to look through all these pictures, but seeing them, he felt a lot like he was snooping and it didn't help that Mufasa was silently judging him.

He decided to turn on the TV and see if anything interesting was on. He actually hated TV, there was never anything interesting you couldn't watch on Netflix, and the ads just straight out frustrated him. Speaking of, somehow, every time he seemed to find something interesting, the ad break would start. He pondered forcing himself to sleep somehow with the remaining few drinks, but then an ad caught his attention.

After a while he sat himself back onto the sofa and turned on the tv. As expected, there was nothing interesting, so he got back up and looked through the records he saw earlier, leaving the tv on for backround noise. Like he had thought before, Bucky proved to have a very similar music taste. He found AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, The Black Keys, Mötley Crüe, Alice Cooper, Kansas, Nirvana, even some David Bowie, Beatles and Rolling Stones. He also had a decent jazz collection which Tony thought about listening to sometime. It wasn’t really his music, but if Bucky proved to have a similar taste in music, maybe he’d like his jazz collection too.

He was interruted in his thoughts when someone knocked on the door. It was 3 am for Christ’s sake, who the hell would come over now? What should Tony do? Bucky didn’t say anything about visitors. Was he even allowed to open the door?

“Bucky! Open the door, Buck!”

Was this a trick?

“I need to take a piss, jerk, open the bloody door!” The knocking grew more exsessive. Tony finally got up from between an array of records and ran to the door. He mentally counted to three and then opened the door.

And then he died.

He must have died, because there was a fucking angel standing at the door, with his hands in his jacket pockets, face off to the side, the light emphasizing his cheek bones and those rosy pouty lips.

“There you go, I almost froze my balls off-”

Broad shoulders and huge baby blues turning towards him, the sweet steady voice broke off mid sentence and the angel’s dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, you’re not Bucky. Or are you? I must be drunker than I thought.”

Tony could feel himself drool, just a little bit.  


“I am deeply sorry for my language. I wasn’t expecting you.” The angel swayed a little.

Tony forced himself to say something smooth. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you either.” Wow, he was really off his game.

“May I just… one second.” The angel made to move past Tony. “Oh, yeah sure… You needed to- right.” Tony awkwardly moved back to let him in. The Angel turned to him the moment the front door closed and offered his hand to shake. “I’m Steve. Buck’s brother.”

Tony shook the offered hand, and was pleased by the warm, strong grip. No wonder, with those arms, Tony observed as Steve took off his coat. “I’m Tony… Blank.” He must admit that wasn’t his best cover, but his brain wasn’t functioning as usual with this hot piece of hotness right in front of him.

He heard Steve murmur “blank” before dissapearing into the bathroom. He hoped the lie wasn’t too obvious. “Bucky’s brother, god!”, Tony hissed. And he was only wearing old pyjama pants. He contemplated running into his room to find something else to wear when Steve came back.

“So… Where _is_ Bucky?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Steve looked a little guilty at that. “Well, I’m… I was- You see-”

“He’s in LA.” Steve looked surprised at that. Then he shook his head, smiling. “Bucky would never just leave. He hasn’t travelled for years.”

“He put his house down on some exchange website, and we switched for two weeks. So I’m here and he’s in my house in LA.”

Steve’s brows furrowed again and his confusion made him look so sweet. “People do that?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m standing here. In my pyjamas.” Steve smiled and suddenly tilted forward, into Tony’s space, before catching himself.

“May I sit down? I feel like I might fall on top of you.”

“Yeah, of course.”, Tony said while thinking _‘God, please do fall on me, and press me to the ground, and grind down on me, make me-’_  He cleared his throat and willed himself to focus.

Steve let himself fall onto the couch and winced at how uncomfortable the contraption was. He sighed.

“Look, I’m so sorry for the intrusion. Usually my brother lets me sleep here on weekends after I frequent the pub so I don’t get behind the wheel. I’m quite embarassed about the fact that it has become a bit of a routine, and I’m once again sorry for barging in and ruining your night.” He smiled at Tony and it showed off his dimples. “So how was your evening?”

Tony didn’t dare to sit down out of fear what he’d do to that beautiful creature. And he was so distracted by the movements of his lips that his gaze lingered a bit too long and his response came a bit too late. “Oh, uhh, not so great. I’m thinking about leaving tomorrow.”

Steve frowned. “When did you arrive?”

Tony mentally calculated how much time he spent drunk on his own in this cottage. “About nine hours ago.” Steve let out a startled laugh. “Yeah I know, what a waste, but I’m not really myself now and I kind of started this trip on a whim, not really thinking it through, which is not unusual, but, uhh… would you like something to drink?” Steve seemed to take a moment to process what Tony had said, but then smiled and nodded. He pointed to a shelf behind Tony. “I believe there’s some brandy in there.”

Indeed, there was brandy, and Tony poured them both some, while Steve kept asking him questions. “So, do you have a girlfriend?” Tony let out a humorless laugh. “Ha, no.” He gave Steve his brandy and they clinked glasses. “Cheers”

“And do you have a boyfriend?”

Tony choked on his drink, but recovered fast. He eyed the way Steve sat leaned back on the sofa confidently, legs spread casually, holding his drink in one hand and leaning his other arm on the backrest. He eyed Tony through his thick lashes, blue eyes piercing Tony’s, a faint blush covering his cheeks. Tony didn’t know wether it was from the alcohol or the sudden increase in temperature. The way Steve sat, he gave Tony the perfect view of his body. Tony took advantage of that and let his gaze wander up and down his body, before licking his lips. “No.”

Steve smiled. “Would you mind if I stayed tonight?”

Was he _flirting_ with Tony? “Yeah, sure, let me just get you a blanket.” Tony turned around, subtly adjusting his pants before he realised he had no idea where the blankets were kept.

“In the cupboard, right over there. So why did you come to England anyway?”

Tony handed him the blanket and sat down next to the blond, but he didn’t face him. “My best friend and lover broke up with me, actually that was yesterday, so I thought maybe I’d feel less alone somewhere else, but, as I already mentioned, that was a really stupid idea, because, surprise, I’m still single on the other side of the globe, and I don’t feel any ground-breaking changes, and I feel kind of stupid for running away, so I’ll probably return home and bury myself in work…” He trailed off suddenly. He didn’t know why he was telling Steve all this.

After a while he dared to look at Steve, and startled. Steve was looking at him, not with pity, but with sympathy, which made warmth spread in Tony’s chest in affection. How could a stranger have this kind of emotional effect on him? Tony let his head hang to hide his face; he felt too vulnerable like this. Then he felt a warm hand clasp down on his shoulder. He turned back to Steve, seeing a comforting smile. Tony sent a self-depreciating smile back. “Bet you’re really glad you knocked on that door.”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

Tony froze and sat there staring at this beautiful creature. _‘How is he even real?’_

When he noticed he was staring for too long, Tony abruptly got up to leave. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, uhh, I really need to…” He mimicked walking up the stairs like a moron and winced internally while Steve, the gentleman stood up to properly say good bye. When they stood, Tony noticed the space between them- or rather the lack of space- and his heart started pounding again. “Good night.”

“Good night.”, Steve answered and kissed him.

It was tender and soft.  It was the sweetest good night kiss Tony had ever received. They broke apart, and only then Steve seemed to realise what he had done. His eyes grew big and he started apologizing, only to be cut off by Tony. “We should totally have sex tonight.”

Moments passed in which Steve was visibly too stunned to speak. Tony started questioning if bringing that up had been a good idea, when Steve grinned. “And I had feared I misread the signs.” At that, Tony grinned back and lunged at him, hunger and lust evident in his eyes. They both moaned at the first contact, every touch burning hot like fire and Tony knew he had never been this turned on in his life.

In their kiss they fought for dominance, tongues licking and teeth clacking, biting and sucking on eachothers skin while mapping every inch of free skin with their fingers. Steve’s clothes were peeled of one after another, since Tony was already only in pants. Steve was pushed onto the couch and Tony straddled him, only breaking the kiss to lift his shirt over his head. Steve moved on to Tony’s jaw and neck, pulling him closer with an arm on the small of his back to join them where they really needed it the most.

Tony moaned and arched his back, giving Steve the perfect view of his chest. His arms left Tony’s back to stroke his sides and pinch a nipple, while his tongue took care of the other. All the while Tony kept grinding back and forth on Steve’s erection, eliciting a harsh breath here and a grunt and a twitch of his hips there. Tony’s filthy moans filled the room and the sounds of their ragged breathing only turned them on more. As Tony ground down harder, Steve’s hands came back down to squeeze his buttocks, and bring him in closer, grinding faster and faster as waves of pleasure built inside of them. They were breathing in each other, eyes focused on the other and Tony wasn’t going to last if they’d be keeping this up and the last thing he wanted was to embarass himself by coming in his pants.

“Oh god, I’m going to… please. Just a second!” He shifted back and tried to catch his breath, and Steve growled, trapping his face in his hand and kissing him. When Tony managed to break away, kept his gaze on Steve and stood. Steve looked thoroughly dishevelled, with his hair mussed from Tony’s hands, and Lips swollen from Tony’s kisses and between his legs … “My god.”

“You can call me Steve.” Tony chuckled and helped him get up, stealing a kiss or two. “Let’s take this upstairs. It’s been a long time and you’re too hot to handle. I need to- oh god, let’s just make this last.” Steve nodded and leaned back in to graze his tongue along Tony’s lips. Just as Tony was going to grant him entrance, he shifted his head, mouthing along Tony’s jaw, licking the shell of his ear. He whispered and his hot breath on Tony’s moist ear made him shiver.

“I ride.” With a kiss to Tony’s pulse point- which was vibrating with Tony’s elevated heartbeat- he turned for the stairs, not waiting to see if Tony followed.

.

Tony couldn’t remember when he had last felt so thoroughly fucked and satisfied. It was just something completely different with a man. He pondered on how he had become so lucky last night while making a coffee for himself and the angel currently lying upstairs in his bed. Or apparently not.

“Good Morning.”

“Good Morning.” Steve smiled as he entered the kitchen, fully dressed. He even wore glasses. “I don’t remember those.”, Tony remarked.

Steve grinned and blushed a little. He even had sweet little dimples. “I somehow lost my contacts last night.”

“Somehow.” Steve chuckled. A phone vibrated on the table, and Tony picked it ob and read ‘Sarah’ without thinking. Then he realised it wasn’t his phone. “Oh, fuck. I’m sorry, didn’t mean to…”

“No problem, I’ll call her back.” Steve smiled as he slipped the phone into his pocket, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which made Tony a bit wary. Admittedly, he didn’t have a clean past himself, but he didn’t want Steve to be that kind of guy. A guy like Tony was, once.

Ignoring the awkward tension that followed, Tony searched for any clean coffee cups left, but Steve was faster and gave him one. “You don’t want coffee?”

“I should probably get going you know?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some stuff to pack myself. Flight to catch and all.”

Steve lingered for a while and then they both spoke at the same time. “Listten”

“Oh, um, you first.”, Tony offered.

Steve paused for a second. “I know you’re leaving, but I just want you to know that even if you weren’t, and you wanted to… I’m on no state… I fear my life is a bit messy at the moment, and I can promise you wouldn’t want to-

“Hey no worries, I’m really fucked up myself, remember?”

“Alright, yes, but I needed to make sure. That it’s better. For you, that is.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Please let’s not do that again.” Steve looked puzzled. “Do what?”

“The Fault in Our Stars. Okay can be our forever, yadda yadda.”

Steve guwaffed and his laughter was infectious. “Why do you even know that movie?”, he asked, wiping tears from under his glasses. “Hey, you can’t judge me if you’ve seen it yourself.” Tony teased, now laughing too.

As their laughter dissipated, Steve’s face turned serious again. “I just needed… Because I tend to hurt people, by not being clear enough about these things.”

“You got it clear, cap. I’m not going to fall in love with you.”

“Why thank you. That was nicely put.”, he retorted with a deadpan expression. Tony chuckled. “No, it’s just, I’m pretty sure I can’t fall in love with anyone. That doesn’t sound much better, does it?”

“I’n not sure.” Steve grinned. “Well, it’s nice to have things out from the very beginning for a change. I’m not someone who tends to follough through, as in, call back after a date.” He put on his coat and continued. “But since this wasn’t a date, and you’re not intereted anyway…” Steve stopped walking back and forth and looked at Tony. “But what if I _wanted_ to call you?”

Tony didn’t know wether to feel proud that he had obviously won the angel’s attention or to feel sad, because there was definitely no chance they would work out. He hesitated. It was long enough to unsettle Steve. “Right, wrong thing to ask. Well, if, against all odds, your flight gets cancelled or you decide to stay… I am meeting my friends at the pub this evening, so if you want to… If not, then I believe this is a farewell. You’re… extraordinary, very charming by the way.” Steve’s cheeks were getting a bit hot.

“So are you.” Tony smiled and put down his mug so he could saunter to Steve and kiss him goodbye. It was very chaste, but also electrifying, since it reminded them both of the previous night. Steve quickly dived in for more and Tony gave it to him freely, until they were panting and Steve’s hands were in Tony’s hair, and Tony’s palms were squeezing Steve’s ass through his trousers and they definitely had to stop now or he wouldn’t let Steve go anywhere. They broke apart, visibly unwilling but Steve really had to go, and Tony didn’t lie about having to pack stuff either.

“Well then, goodbye.” Steve kissed Tony’s temple and dissapeared through the front door, and everything was over way too quickly. Tony was left standing in the kitchen, looking dazed with the tips of his fingers touching his temple.

****  
“Goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Songs are (in this order):  
> 1\. Twenty One Pilots- Tear in My Heart  
> 2\. AC/DC- Shot of Love  
> 3\. Alice Cooper- Poison  
> 4\. The Black Keys- Lies
> 
> Hope you liked it! Don't forget to comment so you can let me know if you're still alive and reading :-D  
> Next Chapter will be Bucky again!
> 
> P.S. I wanted to let you know that things might get steamy, but I won't write full on smut/porn. Not because I don't like it etc., but sumply because I such at writing that. Feel free to write some behind the Scenes smut if you'd like to. Just make sure to let me know so I can read it too! :-)


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